Sorry, but Learned Helplessness isn't my Thing
by Cantata
Summary: -"Look, sweetheart, this isn't some fairytale where your pansy 'knight in shining armor' is going to come sweep you off your feet. Get over it." Oh, how he loved his job. When everything is almost within his grasp, why not do what one does best? JokerOC
1. Prologue

Disclaimer: DC Comics owns Batman, the Joker, and their universe, not me. Muse owns the song "Supermassive Black Hole" and its lyrics.

Other than that, I do hope you enjoy.

* * *

**PROLOGUE**

The club was crowded tonight.

Above the crowd of dancers, the lights seemed to pulse in time with the heavy base emanating from the stage. As the music increased in intensity, the singer took his place in front of the microphone.

Showtime.

_Oh baby, don't you know I suffer?_

_

* * *

_

Meanwhile, a dark figure cackled insanely as he burst into a bank. The criminal, followed by his obedient lackeys, flooded into the crowded building, firing off random gunshots to ensure the passivity of the people within.

As the lackeys begin to round up hostages, shooting them periodically, the man stepped forwards, still cackling slightly.

"When should I be expecting them?" he muttered, before saying in a louder voice, "You may want to hold onto something, boys. This is going to be a _blast_!"

Starting up his deranged laughter again, he moved towards the vaults in the back.

This would take some time.

Time he didn't have.

* * *

As the music continued, the dancing became heated, sensually electrifying. Crowds continued to flock to the club, and once inside drinks were being passed around everywhere. The seemingly chaotic dancing continued, the band onstage persisted playing throughout the sexual atmosphere, pouring their hearts out into the sensuous tune, keeping the people within the club enthralled.

_I thought I was a fool for no one.  
But, oh baby, I'm a fool for you…_

_

* * *

_

The man laughed. It was all too easy.

He opened the fault doors effortlessly, he reached the meaning of this little mission…

…And there was the one person to make his day.

"Why hello, _Batsy_."

Cackling, he stepped into the vault. Facing the Caped Crusader, his grin only grew.

"Y'wanna _dance_?"

* * *

The singer smiled as he gazed over the heads of the people in the crowd before him. There was just something about this…this…'ability'…that gave him such an adrenaline rush. He loved the feeling of standing on a stage, seemingly untouchable, while managing to get _this_ sort of reaction out of the crowd.

He looked into the crowd again, watching the seemingly mindless dancers, too caught up in their hormones to notice anything else.

Oh, how he loved this job.

Smirking deviously, he threw himself back into the music, his voice combining with the instrumentals to prolong the musical spell they had cast over the dancers.

_Ooh, you set my soul alight…  
Ooh, you set my soul alight…_

_

* * *

_

The glint of the dim fluorescent lights off of the reflective surface of a wickedly sharp-looking knife followed the cackles of the criminal. Batman tensed, readying himself for the inevitable fight. With a snarl, the man darted forwards, slashing at Batman with his knife in hopes of leaving Batman with a more permanent reminder of this latest encounter.

Grunting, Batman threw him off.

"Now, now, _Bats_, let's play nice. I only want to, uhm, _present_ you with a little, uh, _gift_ to remember me by…" the man said, pausing afterward to insanely laugh once again.

With another growl, the man attempted to strike again, only to have Batman deflect the attack again.

The criminal, pretending to have a watch on, looked down at his wrist. "Well, _Batsy_, I've, uhm, I've gotta _go_. You know how it is," the man started.

"But here's a little something for you. _Enjoy_." With that, he flung a playing card at the Caped Crusader before turning away.

As Batman reached out and caught said card, it sliced deep into his gloves.

"Damn. Razor-sharp," he muttered absentmindedly, sparing only a slight glance at the gruesome joker figure splayed across the card.

As he tucked the card into his belt, the man darted away, no doubt trying to make his escape. As Batman began to pursue, he heard the criminal's insane laughter once again.

"Oh, I _do_ hope you enjoy the finale. I made it _especially_ for you. It'll be a _bang_!" the man said, not pausing once as he ran out through the main doors.

Batman cursed, knowing there was no time to waste. With a final grunt, he burst through the glass doors just as an explosion rocked the bank.

* * *

The Joker looked through the rear view mirror as he sped away from the bank. Gazing at the fire in admiration, the deranged man grinned. He knew this would end _perfectly, _even if it meant he had to go find more thugs. They were, after all, quite disposable. It wasn't as if he would have a hard time finding more desperate men looking for money within the Narrows.

"_Well_," he cackled, "that was, uhm, _quite_ the _success_!"

As he continued picking up speed, moving away from the ruins of the bank, he turned the radio on. Once the music began filling the air, he cackled once more before speeding onto the highway, leaving chaos in his wake.

_Supermassive black hole_…  
_Supermassive black hole_…  
_Supermassive black hole_…

_**Supermassive black hole**_**.**


	2. Chapter One

Disclaimer: DC Comics own Batman, The Joker, and Gotham. Not me.

* * *

**CHAPTER ONE**

"Thanks again for the save last night."

Walking down the street with a cell phone in hand, the woman looked more than slightly frazzled.

"I really do appreciate you guys making a detour to cover for those idiots. _Why_ they never noticed they were overbooked truly escapes me…"

"No problem. You know we'd do anything to help you. Especially after…well, you know…" The voice on the other end laughed sheepishly.

She chuckled. "Oh, shush! You know she always wanted to meet you. And with how it all turned out, I think we're all pleased with the outcome."

"Too true. Well, I think we both have things to do. Just remember, we're still in the area for a while if you need anything else. Just give us a ring if more 'idiots' overbook themselves again."

"Will do. Thanks again, and I'll talk to you later! Give everyone love from me!"

"Sure thing, Eileen! Later!"

The click of the man on the line hanging up met her ears.

As the woman closed her cell phone, she smiled lightly. Having friends like hers, ones that would cancel a show of their own to cover for her when rookie bands overbook and _forget_ until the last minute, always made her feel well-liked. Even if it meant she could hardly see said friends.

Fame does that sort of thing, after all.

* * *

The Joker was _not_ pleased.

With his latest heist over, he figured he was in for a nice stretch of plotting before having to deal with the idiocy of the police. But _oh_, how he was wrong.

The evening after his escape from Batman, good ol' _Batsy_ decides to track him down.

Again.

And this time, he brought along some of said idiots of the police force.

Cracking his neck, the Joker stepped out of the shadows where he was lurking. He knew it was unavoidable.

It was time to have a little impromptu session of his favorite game: **_Piss off The Batman_**.

* * *

Eileen laughed as she walked into the club that evening. Though the local band failed to show up last night, they decided that they'd try and win the favor of the nightclub again. This time, it was by showing up at the club in hopes that the DJ was sick for the night.

He was here long before they were. Too bad for them.

As Eileen jumped over the counter of the bar, getting ready for the flood of people soon to enter the nightclub, she grinned. She knew their chance was gone, even if they went to the manager of the nightclub. It would be a long time before they could, if they ever _would_, play here again.

"'Ey, boys. You learn your lesson to not overbook yourselves? How was _your_ turnout last night?" she jeered.

The band members groaned. Thanks to Eileen's quick save and friends in high places, hardly anyone showed up to _their_ set last night. Everyone continued to flock here, to one of the most popular nightclubs in Gotham: **The Frequency**.

As they shuffled out of the club, looking like kicked dogs, Eileen smothered a laugh. They got what was coming to them.

Beginning to prepare the bar for the long night ahead, she began humming a tune from last night absentmindedly. Grinning once more, she waited for the opening of the club._  
_

_

* * *

_

Wiping the blood from the corner of his mouth, the Joker cackled. Having a little go with Batman always made his day.

As he strolled down another alley he contemplated his next move. He escaped from the police and the Caped Crusader hours ago, and all he wanted was a place to plot. His last hideout would serve no use anymore, now that the police found it. There were probably still police lurking about in there…

"That reminds me…" he muttered, pausing a second to rummage through the various pockets of his coat.

Making a noise of approval he fished out a strange contraption. Quickly pulling the key out of the makeshift detonator, he cackled insanely as he heard the rumble of his old hideout blowing up.

"I hope you enjoyed _that_, my dear _Bats_!"

* * *

Eileen swayed to the music as she mixed and poured drinks behind the bar. Quickly handing them off to the waiters standing around, she looked towards the dance floor, once again quite crowded. Smirking once more, she looked away.

As she continued to do her job, a man slid onto a stool in front of the bar.

"'Sup, J. Usual?" Eileen asked, smiling.

"_Hm_, yes…" the man muttered absentmindedly, languidly gazing at the club's inhabitants.

"Comin' right up!" she said, already halfway through with the preparation.

The man slowly looked around before turning his gaze to Eileen, who was still swaying to the beat slightly as she poured his drink into a chilled glass. Topping it off with a carbonated beverage, she placed it before him.

"Here. One A.M.F. for ya."

She paused a second, watching the man rummage through his coat, before deciding to butt in.

"It's on me tonight, J, so stop going through your pockets and drink it."

With a grunt of appreciation, he grabbed the drink off the counter. As he sauntered off to a table in the corner, Eileen smirked before returning her attention to the rest of the patrons at the bar.

* * *

The Joker sat in the corner of the loud nightclub, nursing his A.M.F. quietly. His eyes roamed around the room, ensuring that nothing escaped his searching gaze. As he placed his drink down onto the table, he slouched further in the chair and continued his inspection of the people within the club.

No prospective 'victims' tonight. Damn.

The Joker began contemplating his next steps. Going through his coat, he managed to find a piece of paper and a pen after searching through a few of the various pockets. Beginning to jot down ideas for his next 'play date' with Batman, he mentally listed what he needed to do beforehand.

_First_, he needed to find a place to stay. Since his latest hideout was now nothing but a smoldering mass of debris, this topped the list. He wasn't too fond of sleeping out in alleyways. Not only did it increase his chances of being found before he would like to be, he hated when it rained.

…It ruined his knives.

Once he found someplace safe to stay and plot, he needed to find more underlings. They were _so_ useful…

…Even if he went through them at a terribly fast rate.

What a shame. For _them_.

* * *

Eileen was enjoying herself.

While mixing drinks, she managed to convince one of the waiters to ask the DJ for a certain song. As the song began pumping through the speakers, her grin grew wider.

Dancing behind the bar, she continued her bartending duties, humming along to the song in between making talk with her regulars.

_This_, this pure joy she got from just _being_ within the club, always made everything worthwhile for her. Just forget about the cold and lonely apartment she returned to every morning, forget about the sky-high crime rates of Gotham these days, and forget about the mass terror of never knowing who would be the next to die. The ability to just _be_ within the club, talking to the regulars and listening to musical favorites, put everything else to the back of her head.

_This_ was what made her feel truly alive.

As the music pumped through the building, she glanced around the room in between serving patrons. Catching the eye of the figure in the shadowy corner, she smiled in his diection before looking away to make another drink for a clubber.

* * *

The Joker smirked, staring at Eileen a fraction longer before looking elsewhere. As he finished off his drink, he looked down at the paper he was supposedly writing on.

The paper was filled with doodles of explosions and rough drawings of The Batman in various nasty predicaments.

Giggling insanely to himself, he pocketed the paper and pen before getting up and sauntering back to the bar.

_God_, he needed another drink.

As if he wasn't messed up in the head _enough_…


	3. Chapter Two

Disclaimer: Gotham, the Joker, and Batman belong to DC Comics.

* * *

**CHAPTER TWO**

The Joker groaned as he drifted into consciousness.

Cracking an eye open, he looked at his surroundings, trying to remember how he got here. Wherever 'here' was. Opening both eyes, he began trying to recollect his memories of last night.

After his latest game with Batman he had made his way towards the closest place selling bar. Slipping in through the back, he remembered sauntering up to the bar, greeting the usual bartender as he slunk into a bar stool. He got a drink, free for once, and wandered to a corner to think. Things went a little blurry after that…more drinks…more insanity…more _chaos_. Thinking a bit, he definitely remembered getting into a fight with someone, god knows who. And then getting dragged out of the club before doing more damage than he already had. Grinning, he remembered the bloody mess he left them in.

The grin slipping off his face, he returned to contemplating again. He remembered a flash of auburn, a pair of warm hazel eyes, and then darkness. His eyes darkened.

What the _hell _happened?

* * *

What the _hell_ was J thinking?

Eileen groaned as she stepped out of the club, rubbing her eyes against the dim pre-dawn light.

She knew men were idiots, but last night he had taken that theory just a _tad_ too far. He returned to the bar for another drink or_ five_.

And then everything spun out of control.

She tried stopping him from putting more alcohol into his system after a couple more drinks, but he had apparently decided that _yes_, violence _is _the least, it was for the night. Eileen broke from her reverie for a moment to sigh, realizing that she'd have to keep him under stricter watch next time he swung by for a drink.

If there _was_ a next time.

As he began getting violent, a few of her other regulars decided to step in.

_Definitely_ not the right thing to do.

So as a fight broke out between the violent drunk and the rest of the people at the bar, Eileen caught the attention of the bouncers, who immediately decided to 'lend a helping hand'.

Again, _not_ a wise choice.

J decides to bring out a knife. Admittedly rather cool-looking, but a knife nonetheless. And where the hell did he even _find _a knife these days? Especially one looking like that.

So the cops were called. Shortly before they actually arrived, someone managed to drag J out the back door, leaving quite a few people looking the worse for the wear.

And guess who was stuck cleaning up the blood?

That's right; her poor bar was all nice and blood-spattered by the end of the whole fiasco. And by the time everyone injured was shipped off to the nearest hospital and the cops decided to leave, most of it was already dry. It took her hours to get all of that cleaned up, especially once she noticed how many of the glasses at the bar were blood-spattered.

Eileen agitatedly ran a hand through her hair, thoroughly annoyed once again about the whole situation. He was definitely going to get it next time, knife-wielding or not. She did _not_ like cleaning up blood.

And to think she had given a free drink to that asshole.

* * *

The Joker stood in front of a condemned building in the Narrows, inspecting it.

"You sure this is the best you've got?" he asked the man next to him.

The man shuddered slightly before nodding vigorously. "O-of course, si-sir. O-only th-the best f-for you."

The Joker grunted before turning to the man.

"Thanks, then, for your, uh, your _services_."

The gunshot echoed throughout the area.

* * *

"Hey! Watch where you're going!" Eileen yelled as a few men ran past her, roughly shoving her into a wall.

None of them even bothered to spare a glance back.

"Bastards…" she grumbled, pushing away from the wall to continue walking while absentmindedly checking her pockets.

Nothing stolen. Thank god.

As she moved towards the nearest metro stop, the rising sun slowly illuminated the sky, welcoming Gotham to another sunny, albeit smoggy, day. Eileen slowly stepped onto a train, sinking down onto a seat gratefully before resting her head against the window beside her. The train slowly accelerated as it moved away from the station, and as it continued down the track she watched as the buildings slowly changed from the sleek, tall buildings of the heart of Gotham to the smaller, crumbling buildings of the outskirts. Though she lived far from the Narrows, the buildings throughout the rest of Gotham were rarely of the first-rate brand as those closer to its heart. Feeling the train begin to slow to a stop, she stood.

As she walked away from the station near her house, she looked down at her phone to check the time. Seeing as it was late enough for stores to begin opening, she decided to stop for groceries before going back to her apartment to crash for the day. Switching her course, she headed towards the nearest grocery store.

* * *

The Joker growled as he kicked through the debris of the condemned building. _God_, how he hated the dust. It always ruined his suit. And the only way he wanted to ruin his attire was through _playing _with Gotham's precious Batman.

Finally making it over to a closed door, he swung it open to reveal a dingy bathroom. Not the best, but definitely better than the streets. Looking at himself in the mirror, he cackled.

Gruesome as ever.

Looking around the building again, he knew this would be a perfect hideout.

Now all he needed was some human fodder…

_Lackeys_.

* * *

Kicking the door shut behind her, Eileen stumbled into the kitchen. Carelessly dropping the bags onto the counter, she turned to go lock her door behind her.

This _was_ Gotham, after all.

After doing so she turned on the TV before simultaneously beginning to prepare a meal and put away groceries. Looked like it was going to be a mac 'n' cheese night. Nice and easy. As the water began to boil she focused her attention to the TV, gagging in disgust at the soap opera playing on the channel.

"Ew. Angst, sex, and scandal. _Just_ what I needed to hear about…" she whined sarcastically, quickly changing the channel.

As she poured the noodles into the boiling water, she used the remote to continue channel surfing. Once she found the news she paused, slowly putting the remote down while keeping her eyes glued to the screen.

"_And now, our latest news. The Joker has struck again, this time at the __**Gotham Central Bank **__near the City Hall district."_ The camera switched from the anchorman speaking to footage of the wreckage the was once the bank. _"The Joker, as usual, left chaos in his wake. The death toll so far has been counted as 134, but as rescue workers continue going through the wreckage, more bodies are still being found. There have been no survivors as of yet."_

"Again? Why – Ow! _Shit_!" Eileen cried as her attention was yanked away from the latest robbery and onto the boiling water overflowing the pot. Quickly turning the stove off, she stirred the water to get the water under control again. Sighing, she looked down at her arm, which was still pulsing from the scalding water.

She'd be feeling_ that_ later.


End file.
